


Lines

by AngelicSentinel



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Character Study, Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicSentinel/pseuds/AngelicSentinel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Witness: the monster made by men, carefully sculpted from childhood to adulthood; the devil’s true son</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines

**It’s** hard to take the first step towards your own destruction. The next ones are easier. It always gets easier with time.

They left you all alone. They left you behind, your hands outstretched and grasping. You let **them** go, for surely they know their own mind.

You tell yourself not to hope. It's never done you any good. That doesn't stop you from watching and waiting anxiously as days go by and there's still no word. They don’t return **against** your hopes. You send another in your place, only to find that they did what you couldn’t. Death is all around you, in your embrace, and you see how it lingers, spreading to others like a disease. Their eyes are dim now; the responsibility not their own. You close your own and curse your weakness.

There’s a seed of fire that grows there that’s been planted since longer than **you** can remember, burning hot and bright as an ember reflected in the stainless steel of a laboratory slab, in the glass that shutters gleaming hungry eyes.

It burns low for a long time, compounded by **sins** and lies, coiling inside your heart, ready to strike.

They                        left                                                 you                                                                                                     all                                                                                        **alone.**

until One day it ignites to the crinkling of yellow pages in a dark place deeper than your own and a dull, **incessant** headache that just
    
    
    won
    t go       a   w   a   y

Like balancing on a knife’s-edge. How far is too far? And why does it get easier over **time** to do the things you said you’d never do?

The formation of a **villain** , crossing line by line:

Witness: the monster made by men, carefully sculpted from childhood to adulthood; the devil’s **true** son

Witness: the same aura, the same sweet words whispering in your ear more silver than your hair fluttering in the western wind over the fountain of **copper** and the field of corpses

Witness: The hum, the thrill of power and control in a life that never had any, **chains** of command wrapped tightly around the limbs in a mockery of a marionette

destroyed by a Choice in a world where you never had any, to make the world **_burn_** like you always did inside, make it turn fragile as ash:

ephemera

ephemera

ephemera

 

 

 

> _**and then** _

The voice is different but the words are still the same, oh yes, honeyed **poison** dripping daintily in your ear, pulsing through your mind, a grand, glorious promise of paradise and escape

_but in the end, it’s your **choice-----**_

 

_**Let it burn.** _

 


End file.
